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^«^.-. 







LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. Copyright No. 

ShelL-'i^i.?-^ 6 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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(|oUipn']|oli 



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By 

Caroline W.D.Rich 



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GOLDEN -ROD 



^AND SOME^ 
OTHER VERSES 



.BY. 



> CAROLINE W. D. RICH 




Buffalo: 

The Peter Pa«I Book Company 

. J895 . 






Copyrighted 
By C W. D. Rich 

1895 



GOLDEN-ROD 

golden-rod, golden-rod, nestling in green, 
A joy to all eyes is thy beautiful sheen! 

O, who could the sunshine's bright treasures 

unfold, 
And leave on thy petals such luminous gold! 

1 bow down my head with my ear to the sod, 
And listen for answer, O fair golden-rod! 

A whisper — so gentle it may be the whir 

Of a butterfly's wing, or thy rootlets faint stir — 

In musical cadences softly replies; 
*^ An angel came down with his wonderful dyes. 
And painted, and painted until as you see 
Our faces are golden as golden can be/' 



WHO KNOWS 

Who knows how soon a rose will fade — 
How soon a birdling first will fly? 
Who knows how soon the dew will dry 

Upon the grasses in the glade, 

Where flickering shadows fitful lie? 

Who knows where thistle-down will lodge 

When once by zephyrs lightly tossed; 

Or, how a word breathed on the air, 
Across the lake returns again 
From echoing hills — a sweet refrain? 

Amid life's wear, so much is lost. 

Will love and truth abide? Who knows! 



LIFE'S LESSON 



'^For we are all like swinunefs in a sea, 
Poised on the top of a large wave of fate, 
"Which seems uncertain to which side to fall/ 



MATTHEW ARNOLD. 



What is lifers destiny? What is its rest? 
Search the unsearchable; yet in thy quest 
Secrets may meet thee too holy to touch. 
The soul findeth peace by not seeking too much* 
There ^s more to our living than timers ceaseless 

flight, 

Of sunrise and noonday, evening and night, 
Over and over, like waves on the shore, 
Fretting its adamant* Life holds much more 
Than swimming alone on the dead sea of fate, 
Uncertain, unknowing, in darkness to wait. 
Lifers lessons seem tangled, yet patience is best; 
Bear gladly lifers burdens — God giveth sweet 
rest. 



DE SENECTUTE 

As figures in our dreams, how often pass 

The scenes of childhood, through the busy 
brain. 
Flitting, like shadows o^er the waving grass; 

Each but a moment seen, retreats again. 
So, as we older grow, how softly close 

The doors of sense, shutting us from the world. 
Like withering petals of a perfumed rose. 

Which, over ripe, have shrunk and inward 
curled. 

No more the ecstatic joy, nor deep delights; 

Taste, hearing, vision, please no more — ^these 
gone. 
The spirit seeks to catch celestial lights 

That from the golden city, drifting on. 
Attract the dimming eyes of him who waits 
To hear the vesper summons from its gates. 



A RHAPSODY 

**He bfingeth good things/' 

I listen for the coming, 
For the coming of his feet; 
In the rosy, dewy dawning 
When the crimson tints of morning 
Chase the shadows of the night 
To their retreat; 
Then I listen for the throbbing— 

And the sobbing, 
Of nature^s faint heart beat. 

I listen for the coming, 
For the coming of his feet; 
When the sunlight is a-quiver 
On forest, hill and river — 
And an undertone of pain 
Everywhere — 



And I hear the helpless moaning — 

And the groaning — 
And waitings of the dying in the air* 

I listen for the coming. 
For the coming of his feet; 
While a sweet elusive vision — 
Like the olden dreams elysian, 
As the vesper tones of peace 
Ring soft and low — 
Brings me glimses of a morrow 

Free from sorrow — 
And now the coming of his feet I know* 



IDLEHAVEN 
. J895 . 



flUL 0CE)K" COMPANY 

I ■ 



rKlNTCItS 
BINDERS 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

llliliilliiillillllllilliliiliil 

016 255 851 1 



